1. We have been hearing a lot about vocations recently. At the heart of it, a vocation is a calling—a way of giving oneself to God by following Christ.

    Too often, though, I think we look at “following Christ” and think of nuns and monks and priests. We think about how they have “sold everything” and followed Christ.

    We may ask ourselves, “What must I do to be perfect, to inherit eternal life?” and what we think we hear is that perfection means a celibate vocation.

    And if we do, we’re wrong.

    In Mark 10 Jesus asks the young man who wants to follow him to give “What you have.” That means your stuff, your body, and your will.

    Sound familiar?

    The celibate person lives poverty, chastity/celibacy and obedience. Likewise, the married man or woman says to his bride or to her husband: “Here is my wealth (poverty), here is my body (celibacy), and here are all the plans I have for my life (obedience). I will find fullness by giving them to you. So here, take them.” The married person gives him or herself fully to this person, in these concrete realities of married life.

    This self-gift to one’s spouse is made even more beautiful when both spouses are baptized in Christ and belong to the Lord, for what is given to the spouse is a gift to the Body of Christ, and is not a gift to the Body also a gift to the Head of the Body, a gift to Christ?

    But we also need men and women to become priests, brothers and sisters.

    Married or not, we all long for an even deeper union, and the celibate person reminds the world that the deeper longing for union with God is real and possible. The celibate says with his life: “Yes! Your desire to give yourself and become one with God has an ultimate end in the age to come—for my vocation would not be had it not been for Christ who came into this world and who called my name. God is real. Trust me. I’m betting my life on it."

    This coming weekend our community celebrates vocations. And the vocation to priesthood couldn’t be without the vocation of a married couple whose love created and raised a child, and without the bigger community of celibates and other married people who helped form him.

    Let’s celebrate all vocations, because we need them all.





    Image source 1, 2
  2. 8th graders exploring Pakentuck, the tallest free-standing falls in Illinois


    I moved into Resurrection Catholic Church this summer for my summer ministry assignment. Within the first few hours, I was on a tractor, scooping and dumping as if I was back on the family farm.

    But this time it was mulch—which smells a lot better than some other things we scoop and dump on farms.

    We got cleaned up and went to two parish meetings that same evening, hearing about ministry to the poor and about auction fundraiser results and new school books. The second day was spent touring the school before packing up and heading on a camping trip with the 8th grade class and teachers to Camp Ondessonk nestled in the Shawnee National Forest in Illinois.

    We hiked about 5 miles, made “foil burgers” over a camp fire, played many little camping games, and celebrated the class’s elementary and junior high education. At the final bonfire, some of the students decided to teach me their dance moves. They were surprised that I gave in. And even more surprised when I taught them a few moves, too. I never thought dance moves I learned years ago would be useful in this way.

    On the third day, after traveling back to the parish a little earlier than the rest of the class, I went along with my summer pastor to Mater Dei’s Baccalaureate Mass for the graduating class of 2015. Countless faces of friends from Gibson County and people I've come to know since entering seminary flooded the high school on the rainy Friday evening, and though I was running on just three hours of bunk-house-quality sleep from chaperoning at the campground the night before, God provided the strength to not only make it through, but really celebrate with the class and families gathered.

    This almost feels like a journal entry or something of the sort, but I share it because I’m constantly astonished at how the Lord provides for us when we do ministry for him.


    Growing up on a farm has time-and-again helped me since entering seminary, and it did once again last week mulching on my first day doing ministry at Resurrection. School dances and learning new moves at FFA events before entering seminary gave those teenage kids and I something to connect over as we enjoyed a couple days camping. And, even when we might have good reason to stop giving, the Lord makes up for what we lack.


  3. A priest gave me a copy of Happy Are You Poor by Fr. Thomas Dubay a few years ago, and I’ve read it several times.

    The author writes that the lifestyle Jesus called us to live is not simply carelessness with one’s resources. That is just poor stewardship. Gospel poverty is also not a mere detachment from things, for while one can be detached, one must also in fact share their goods with those who are in need.[1]

    No. That’s not Gospel poverty.  Jesus did not live those kinds of poverty himself. Rather, the poverty Jesus lived was a poverty for the sake of life to come. Likewise, the Gospel poverty we are called to is valuable not for what we don’t have on earth, but for what this way of life makes possible.

    Jesus told the story of a rich man and poor beggar, Lazarus. Lazarus died and “was carried by angels to the bosom of Abraham” (Lk 16:22). When the rich man died, he suffered torment. Why? Probably not because he happened to be wealthy, for many Saints were Kings, Queens, and Nobles.

    The problem isn’t wealth but what wealth prevents. The wealthy man’s enjoyment of goods prevented him from helping Lazarus who was in need. Simply put, because his wealth had taken hold of his heart, he couldn’t see Jesus in the poor.

    Many of us are very generous with what we have. But we all know this blindness, too. We all have jewelry, electronics, or sports apparel that we do not want to part with. As Dubay says, it “has taken a hold” on our hearts.[2] And when our heart is on something we can see and touch, how hard it is to fully give ourselves to a God who is so far beyond our senses.

    Gospel poverty makes it possible for us to live for Heaven. Having less opens our eyes to the poor, allows us to give readily, and to keep our ultimate destination first in this life. Unless we continue to evaluate what is preventing us from living for Heaven, new things will always distract us.

    So, what blocks your heart from focusing on Heaven? Take one more step toward Gospel poverty this week by giving away one thing that has “taken hold” of your heart.



    [1] Dubay, Thomas. Happy Are You Poor: The Simple Life and Spiritual Freedom. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2003. Chapter 5.
    [2] Dubay, 59


  4. As the time to board our flight drew near, but two of my friends were nowhere in sight. They just wanted a coffee, and I told them I would watch their bags.

    Just then: “Final call for passengers Tenbarge and…”

    Ah! I quickly gathered up their entire luggage and approached the gate agent. “Ma’am, I’m Tenbarge, and the other two are coming.”

    She looked at me, not smiling, and said, “Sir, you need to board the plane.”

    “OK. Can I leave their bags here?”

    “No,” she said.

    “So may I take them on the plane for them?”

    “No, sir, you cannot,” she responded.

    Hmmm. I wondered what I could do. “Should I wait here with their stuff, then?”

    “You need to board now!” she exclaimed. “We are leaving!”

    “But I can’t take their bags. And I can’t leave them, either?”

    “Right.”

    “I’m lost, ma’am. What do I do?!”

    The conversation tested my patience. The gate agent knew three things: bags may not be left unattended, passengers may not transport others’ bags, and all passengers need to board before the jet way closes. However, these rules caused a lot of frustration for both of us.

    Among the many, powerful principles of Catholic Social Teaching, subsidiarity reminds us to give responsibility to more localized levels. “Just as it is gravely wrong to take from individuals what they can accomplish by their own initiative and industry and give it to the community,” writes Pope Pius X in Quadragesimo Anno, “so also it is an injustice…to assign to a greater and higher association what lesser and subordinate organizations can do. For every social activity ought of its very nature to furnish help to the members of the body social, and never destroy and absorb them.”[1]

    The gate agent had been given rules but no authority to make a responsible decision. The rules bound her from acting reasonably. And, thankfully, my friends arrived before it escalated into something worse!  More intentional subsidiarity would have given the gate agent guidelines to follow for safety and efficiency, but also allowed her to figure out how to get me to board without my friends’ bags.

    So, teach your child to tie her own shoes, kindly refuse something offered to you from a “bigger” level and show them your ability to do it, instead, or maybe just be patient with a gate agent the next time you fly, because localized competence serves the universal good.




    [1] Pius XI, Encyclical Letter Quadragesimo AnnoAAS 23 (1931), 203
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